


Why?

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Coma, PG-13 - Blue Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars), Time Period: 2006-present (Life on Mars), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 17:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: Why did Sam do what he did?





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Inspired by this:  
>  http://lifeonmarsconfessions.tumblr.com/post/9731084991  
> and the general question voiced in the title.
> 
> Set in ep. 2.08 so allusions to the events pictured in this episode.

Sam sat in Barbirolli Square. Manchester 2006. His home in every sense of the word. He should be happy, cockahoop about it. Home with his friends and family, people who loved him, respected him. But... As it had turned out, there weren't that many friends here in this time waiting for him. His colleagues had welcomed him back to work, their joy reserved but at least they were honest. His mother was the happiest person on the planet, having her only child back. She never wanted to believe he wouldn't wake up, and when he had finally opened his eyes in that hospital bed all those weeks ago, she'd been crying and overcome with joy.

 

Maya - he had spoken to her when she came to visit one day, out of courtesy. His mother had prepared him carefully for the presumable shock, had told him that his now ex-girlfriend had not been able live with the situation anymore, that she was a young healthy woman and needed to get on with her life. Sam had only nodded gravely - he already knew.

 

In the last few days, he had realized he had never had that many friends in his life. The relationship with his colleagues was so different from what he had experienced in 1973. In his coma dream. In 2006, they were all fighting for a promotion, a better position, more money, more respect. He had fought hard to become a DCI that young, and he had had to constantly prove himself to his superiors as well as his subordinates in order to keep that position. It was a constant battle - no place for friendships. Further, his private connection to Maya had put even more of a 

 

strain on his work relationships - he also constantly had to prove that he didn't favour her. Be harder on her than he would have liked in order to dispirit any accusations.

 

Sitting on that bench, he watched the people around him. They were all walking alone, their own ways - modern communication and relationships clearly marked by talking on the phone and texting. No direct contact, no human contact. Only via machines.

 

He wondered about his colleagues from 1973. From that world he had left behind involuntarily. Involuntarily? Hadn't he always hoped to wake up? Waited for it, fought for it, prayed for it? He couldn't imagine ever wanting to wake up now. But it was true - he had wanted to. He had constantly 

 

fought for it, had sacrificed his friendships, his friends for it...

 

Why had he done it?? Why had he believed that it was all better in 2006? Was it just that he had thought 2006 was the real world? The proper world which he belonged to? He HAD TO return to in the end?

 

He let his mind wander back to those fatal last days in CID 1973. He had been so sure that it all was a dream - and well, he had been right. He had woken up to a world he remembered. But when he had met Frank Morgan at the cemetary, when he had told him 1973 was real, that he had experienced it all before, the voices, the hospital sounds... When he had proved to him that 1973 was the real world and that Sam had only made up 2006... he had believed him. Had finally been prepared to throw it all overboard, to give up his dream of returning "home." He thought that door had closed, had never existed in the first place.

 

And he hadn't wanted to leave them in that tunnel. Hadn't wanted to wake up. He had felt the pull of the white light, heard the voices, but he didn't want to leave. Didn't want to leave his friends to die. How could he if they were real? How could he if they were not? He had promised... not only Annie, the others too. Gene had accepted that promise for all of them, telling Ray to let him go to get help. And he had gone and...

 

He wondered how it even came to them being stuck in that tunnel, fighting for their lives. How could he have been so blind not to see Morgan's plan? And how could he have been prepared to betray his friends, because that's what they had become. More than colleagues - part of his life. So why had he continued with the M.A.R.S. plan if he had believed they were real? They had lives he was about to destroy?

 

The answer was quite simple - Morgan had appealed to his inner beliefs, his own credo. Reminded him of the fact that "you cannot uphold the law by breaking it." That the "cancer" needed to be exorcised from the police force. Had reminded him that this was what he had always fought for. He had been right, of course. Sam had always believed in the Robocop motto: "Serve the public trust, protect the innocent, uphold the law." But 1973 had seduced him. The Gene Hunt approach did have its advantages, and Sam had been prepared to accept that times were different and thus methods were too. It was much easier, no red tape, and no consequences. It wasn't real. Nevertheless, he had tried to steer Gene into the right direction, all of them. He had successfully implemented some of what he believed in, had shown them how to be better police officers, how to use "modern" technology in their work. But he had also accepted that sometimes, the job required gut feeling, not mere forensics. That working together in an environment filled with testosterone and full of friendship and personal fights was preferable to a world were everyone was operating on their own island, exchanging information merely via e-mail, networks, telecommunication. Of course, having all data ready at the tip of your finger, obtaining it by pressing one or two buttons was a dream for every crime fighter, but was that all he ever was? Someone doing his job, fighting for others? Just a cog in the wheel?

 

If friendship and trust were those traits which made him long for his 1973 world now, how come he had so easily betrayed his friends? Why had he been prepared to work for Morgan against Gene and the others? As long as he had been sure that it all was just in his head, that they didn't exist, it was a simple calculation - destroy Gene Hunt and return home. But when he thought Gene was real? That he did have a life, he and the others? A life that he was about to destroy? He knew that it would kill him. Gene was a copper by vocation - if he took that away from him, he would indeed kill him. The picture of a devastated Gene came to 

 

his mind - sitting in he pub, drinking himself to death. Or maybe he'd even follow his mentor's example, Harry Outhwaite, and hang himself. Sam shuddered.

 

How could he? How could he have done what he did? Was he really that fixed on procedure, on doing the right thing, his job, that he forgot about the people he loved? About their lives, about the impact his doings would have on them?

 

He had been prepared to destroy them before, demolish the world they were in, when he had thought that it would make him wake up. When he thought that by taking that tape to Superintendent Rathbone, he would bring the whole place crashing down. But he had not believed that they were real then. Why, when faced with the prospect of having to stay in 1973, having to live his life there without the hope of ever returning to another world, the future, had he chosen to stick to his principles? To ignore friendships, to destroy relationships for the "better good?" For what he believed was "right", damning the consequences? Was this what living in the modern world had done to him? Someone so eager to do his job, so afraid of being accused of favouring his friends, to do the "right thing," that he wouldn't even see what he was about to do to them?

 

Now he knew that that world only existed in his head. He had been right, of course. Had sacrificed a phantasy only, had stayed strong and woken up. But now that he had managed it, finally, he wasn't sure that this was what he wanted, going about his business like he was dreaming, not even connecting to the people and things around him. His experiences in 1973 had changed him, had made him see that there's more to life than follow the (presumably) right path. He had experienced LIFE. Felt more alive than he ever would in this modern, sterile world he was stuck in now. He thought of Nelson's words - "You can feel, then you're alive. When you don't feel, you're not."

 

He had made the wrong decision. He had to correct it. And he knew just how.


End file.
